


Vlog #16 - Would You Rather

by clubstocrews23



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubstocrews23/pseuds/clubstocrews23
Summary: Since wtFOCK won't give us that good content, aka, Sander in a Broerrrs vlog, I had to do it myself.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 4
Kudos: 276





	Vlog #16 - Would You Rather

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading what I write, and I'm sorry for any typos I've missed in my numerous proofreading attempts.

Moyo began the vlog in English, because he was better at it than anyone else in the group.

“What’s up, guys? Welcome back to another thrilling vlog from your favorite Broerrs.” The rest could be in Flemish.

Robbe, Jens, and Aaron burst into cheers in the background. Robbe winked at the camera, but not really, since Sander was the one trying to steady the tripod in front of the group. Something on its left side had broken last time they used it. Sander winked back.

“We’ve been reading your comments,” continued Moyo.

Jens made a face of disgust. “Honestly, sometimes I regret it.”

“We regret it a lot. Sometimes.”

Robbe knew exactly the comment they were referencing. Someone with a long, unpronounceable username decided that they wanted to be with Jens… biblically, if you will. Minus the religion. He felt scandalized to have read it. In the description of this new video, he’d include a politely worded plea to never type and send anything like that ever again.

“But we’re listening to the people, and you have spoken. We picked the next challenge. It’s time for WOULD—”

“—YOU—" said Robbe. 

Jens finished the title. “—RATHER!”

Aaron sulked on the end of the couch. “What am I supposed to say?”

At this point, Moyo and Robbe would edit in a cut, some music, and a tiny little animated title to introduce the game. Sander already had a few ideas he told them he’d be willing to draw if they wanted. The cuts were the best part.

“Alright. We actually have a special guest with us today. Here, I’ll take the camera…”

Sander and Moyo traded places. Now Moyo sat behind the tripod to keep everything stable. Sander sat down in Moyo’s spot in the center of the couch. He looked even more like himself than usual—the Bowie shirt Noor bought him for Christmas, black jeans cuffed at the bottom, Docs, and a leather jacket to tie the ensemble together. Definitely more punk rock than anyone else in the frame. At Jens’s suggestion, he’d gotten his left ear pierced a week ago. The proper time had yet to elapse before he could change posts, so the same black stud with which the parlor pierced it remained in his ear.

Besides the factual part of his appearance, he made Robbe feel like his heart had jumped from a hundredth-floor window and began the freefall of a lifetime.

“This fine specimen…” Jens gestured to Sander with a dramatic flourish. He twirled a finger around a strand of Sander’s bleached hair. “… happens to be the boyfriend of our very own Robbe Ijzermans. He’ll be an honorary Broerrr, for this vlog.”

“Only this vlog?” asked Aaron.

“We’ll see how it goes.”

Sander waved at Moyo. “I’m Sander. I’m—”

The boys talked over each other, finishing the sentence for him. 

“—blond.”

“—TAKEN.”

“—sexually active.”

“—a much beloved children’s movie character.”

“Oh, oh! I’ve got it. A distant relative of Queen Elizabeth.”

The edits with this portion of the video would be hilarious for sure. 

“—an art student in university and Robbe’s boyfriend,” said Sander. “I’m honored to be here with the Broerrs today.”

It had been Moyo’s suggestion to add Sander to the vlogs. He’d approached Robbe after class and tried to bring up the subject naturally, citing something about how Sander hung out with them all the time anyway, and it would make sense to include him. Robbe knew it was another peace offering. Ever since he called Sander gross for liking both boys and girls, he’d been trying to make up for it over and over again. 

The truth was, Robbe forgave him at the slightest sign of repentance. He wasn’t one to hold grudges. It did feel good, though, to know that Moyo truly regretted his past actions and made a conscious effort to avoid similar ones.

“We asked you guys to send us your burning would-you-rather questions, and you did not disappoint.” Jens shook a hat in front of the camera. “An impartial third party—”

“Jana!” yelled Aaron.

“—picked out the best ones and put them in this hat. Each of us is going to pick one out to read, and then everyone has to answer it. You’re not allowed to not answer. And yes, you have to explain your reasons.

“I’m going first. Question one.” Jens cleared his throat to begin. “Would you rather your shower always be freezing cold, or always be the perfect temperature with bad water pressure?” He barely needed any time to think. “Cold shower. It’s good for your skin.” He turned to the others around him. “What say you?”

Sander took Robbe’s hand and set it down on his knee, for no apparent reason, and it made Robbe blush. “I would say we’re the warm shower type.” He was right. Robbe took a cold shower approximately one time in his entire life, and it was when he had to wash the blood from his clothing after— no thanks. He liked the temperature scalding.

“Warm is the way,” Aaron agreed. “Water pressure makes no difference.”

“Disagree.” Even off-camera, Moyo needed his opinion heard. He balanced the tripod as best he could and ran to sit on the arm of the couch, his shoulder brushing with Robbe’s. “I’m with Jens. Cold water tightens your skin or something. Young skin. Fuck yeah.”

Sander laughed. Robbe would never get tired of hearing that laugh. “I’d rather be warm than have young skin. Comfort above appearance.”

This reply made Jens scoff. “You can afford to say that, because you’re beautiful.”

Another cut there, probably. Sander could animate a little picture of a shower or something. Damn, it was really going to pay off to have a boyfriend capable of high-level art techniques.

He decided he liked seeing Sander and the boys together like this. Two worlds he’d suffered to keep separate, now colliding. Instead of the death of the universe, though, all that happened as a result was good-natured banter. They looked comfortable with each other, no tension or withdrawal whatsoever.

Aaron drew from the hat next. “Would you rather speak every language but not understand them spoken to you, or understand every language spoken to you but not be able to speak them? Did I say that right?” 

“Yeah,” said Jens. “It’s just badly worded.”

No one had a fast answer to this question. In the final edit, they’d need to cut out a good chunk of footage, because everyone argued over each other in a fashion so violent it couldn’t be understood. At one point, while trying to make the point that speaking and understanding could only exist in tandem and therefore the question was irrelevant, Jens noticed he was wearing the same earring as Sander. They halted the disagreement to talk about it. Two minutes of unusable content.

Robbe answered first. “Understand. I think it’d be cool to know if people were talking shit about me in the grocery store.”

“Speak,” said Moyo. “Because chicks think it’s hot.”

Jens went for logic over desire. “Understand, so I could go abroad and not look like an idiot when people talk to me.”

Aaron, clearly at a loss, just nodded. “Yeah, I think whatever Jens thinks.”

Sander took the question deeper than the others, which made Robbe proud and concerned at the same time. “Speak, because it doesn’t say that I wouldn’t be able to understand written messages. As long as I can speak it, it means that I can translate it in my head, which means I can ask people to write things down for me.” He thought for another second before continuing, “It wouldn’t work the same way with understanding, because you wouldn’t necessarily master the pronunciation just because you can listen to what other people are saying.”

A comprehensive answer. Aaron stared in awe. “Robbe, you’re dating a genius.”

“Yeah.” Robbe squeezed Sander’s hand in between them. He could feel his heart melting inside his chest. “Clearly I’m not smart enough for this linguistic master.”

“Je t’aime encore,” Sander whispered, quirking his eyebrow. He planted a kiss on Robbe’s lips.

This inspired Moyo to lean sideways and fall off the arm of the couch so that he landed across Robbe and Sander, his head in Sander’s lap. “Aw, ce qu'est un bon petit ami!” He broke into the largest smile Robbe had ever seen and gave Sander a fist bump. “I didn’t know you knew French!”

“Oh, well… yes.”

“We’re French buds now. Everyone else can go home. When we want to communicate in secret, we’re going to do it in French.”

“Gladly.”

“I’ve been telling the others to learn French and they haven’t listened—” 

Robbe didn’t fancy the idea of Sander hiding anything else from him via secret messages in other languages. Besides, this footage probably wasn’t any good for final production. “Okay, guys, shut up. My turn.” 

Moyo didn’t bother to mix the slips in the hat before passing it to Robbe. He picked the one on top. “Would you rather have no one attend your wedding, or no one attend your funeral?” There was an obvious answer to this question. Jana shouldn’t have picked this out of all the submissions they received, especially since Robbe swore he saw one about having oatmeal poured up your nose. “Funeral. It’s not my problem if I’m dead.”

Jens looked this way and that. “We’re probably all in agreement.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Actually,” said Sander, “I’d say wedding.”

Leave it to Sander to pick the unpopular answer. Robbe imagined the animation they’d put beside Sander’s head; a thumbs-down would convey the emotion pretty well. “Give your reasons, then.”

“No one showing up for your funeral means that no one cares that you’re dead.” He squeezed Robbe’s hand again. “I want people to miss me.”

“You’re a better person than all of us, then.”

Moyo’s turn came next. He had yet to move from his position across Sander and Robbe. Robbe took this as the ultimate gesture of ‘I’m okay with your sexuality and your boyfriend, and I’m still comfortable with you.’ It made him happy enough to ignore the fact that his leg was in an awkward position and now he couldn’t fix it.

“Would you rather throw up every time you saw a bird, or burp after every kiss?” Moyo took a second to consider. “Well first of all…” He reached out to tilt the camera downwards, centering himself in the frame. It ruined everything Sander had done to keep the tripod level. “…birds aren’t real. They’re drones from the government to spy on people and, in the case of rebellion, kill them. From America.”

Jens nodded enthusiastically at this idea. “So before we answer it, does this question refer to government drone birds, or only the mythical real birds?” 

“All birds,” said Sander. “Real or fake.”

“And are we counting flightless birds as birds?”

“Why would we not?”

Moyo stroked his chin in contemplation. “All birds... then the kiss one.”

“You don’t get kissed enough for that to be a problem,” Aaron reassured him. It earned a punch in the chest.

Sander and Robbe shared a look. “Throw up when I see a bird,” said Sander, confidently. “We make out too much for the other one.” When he met Robbe’s eyes, Robbe felt his vision tunnel until nothing but Sander remained in his sight line. He was too fucking in love for his own good. “Imagine if every time we kissed I had to stop and burp!”

“Nasty.”

They went around the group again, each choosing a question and answering it. The highlights were pretty obvious, even as they filmed it. All the earlier questions were gold compared to the later ones. Robbe wasn’t there to see Jana weed through the options, so he didn’t necessarily know that she had. For all he knew, she’d just picked the first thirty comments and threw them in the hat.

He passed the time by analyzing the way Sander reacted to different statements. He expected his boyfriend to be shy, or awkward, or even just a little guarded. Instead, Sander was an open book. He laughed with his full chest, made faces when the boys said things he didn’t like, went so far as to slap Jens on the shoulder when Jens mentioned prioritizing breakfast over his attendance. Like a member of the squad. 

Yes, these were two worlds. But what if they could be mixed into one? 

“Okay, Last question, last question.” Moyo held the hat out in front of Sander. “Sander’s going to read this one, so it better be good.” He shook the hat a couple times to mix things around, even though there was only one slip of paper left. Sander reached inside and grabbed the remainder.

He read it. “Would you rather not have sex with a goat but have everyone believe you did, or have sex with a goat but no one will ever find out?” He paused, mumbled through the words over again, and looked into the camera. “What kind of crack do you guys smoke?”

“Pick one,” Moyo ordered.

Jens leaned in close, so his face took up the entire lens. “This is how we determine if he’s worthy of our Robbe. What he answers right here.” He sat back in his chair. “There’s a correct answer, Sander, so choose carefully.”

Robbe imagined the final YouTube version would include an edited still of himself and Sander with a question mark dangling in between them. Some fire emojis, perhaps. 

“How can there be a right answer?”

In lieu of a sophisticated reply, the other boys began to chant, “Choose, choose, choose choose.”

“Alright, alright.” He held up his hands to signal for a grand pause. “I’d rather not fuck the goat.”

The group dissolved into a chorus of laughter. Robbe was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to see whatever graphic Moyo selected in the final for this part. Actually, it might just be a goat emoji. He still wouldn’t want to see it in the context of this conversation. 

“So you want everyone to think you fucked the goat?” Jens used his newscaster voice and offered an invisible microphone to Sander, who pushed his hand away. 

“Well no, but if it’s that or actually fuck the goat—” 

Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “I’d fuck the goat.”

“You would?”

“Yeah. It’d be a one-time thing. If I didn’t fuck the goat, I’d never be able to live down fucking the goat. So y’know, lose-lose.”

“No, but if you fuck the goat then you’ve fucked a goat.”

“It’s a no from me.” Jens held up his hands in surrender. “Let people think what they want.”

Moyo tilted his head back a little more so he could make eye contact with Jens. “Yeah, no from me too.” Robbe noticed that Moyo’s head must be digging into Sander’s thigh, but Sander seemed unbothered.

“Either way, you get the consequences of having fucked the goat.” Aaron tried to justify his previous statement. “It’s a matter of physical versus social. I think I can deal with the physical, but I know my image can’t handle the social.”

Sander blinked incredulously. “ You’d prefer bestiality over a rumor? What the fuck...”

“Please stop talking about fucking goats,” Robbe interjected. “I’m getting mental images.”

Sander tilted his head until it rested on Robbe’s shoulder. He looked up at his boyfriend with a tiny mischievous smile. “Do they turn you on?”

At this point, Jens decided that the vlog needed to be over. He hopped up from the couch and announced, “Well, this has been a great time. Don’t forget to like and subscribe to this channel to see more of us losers and—”

Robbe cut him off. “The only loser today is Amber, who may have just found out her boyfriend would fuck a goat.”

“Not in just any circumstance—” Aaron protested, but Moyo spoke louder than him.

“Peace out, dudes.”

He clicked the camera off.


End file.
